‘I thought we’d never get away,’ Heidi said, with a sigh of relief. ‘This trip is feeling more like an endurance test every day. I’m not sure I can take anymore.’
I nearly eye-rolled at her histrionics, she was never one to under-react. ‘You’re doing great. We’ll be back in London before you know it, and I’ve been playing with a pitch line that might cheer you up.’
‘Really? Go on…?’
‘The split trip sparked the idea when we were all on Terceira Island. You and Zach were living it up at the Uzu Yacht Club, while Leo and I surfed down a volcano, having a polar opposite experience.’
Heidi smiled. ‘You can say that again.’
‘I’ve hadunimaginable momentsrepeating like an ear worm in my mind ever since and been applying it each day as the trip has gone on. Cruising is like going off-grid for holidays – you can’t really imagine what might happen – you just have to wait and see. Even now, you and I will have a different experience of Lisbon to the others.’
‘Interesting,’ Heidi said, tilting her head. ‘I like it. Unimaginable meaning ‘off the scale’ but also doing things that haven’t been done before. It certainly rings true for me; this trip has been non-stop surprises. I could never have imagined it.’
‘And if that’s our experience when the two of us have been sharing a room, think of the extremes we could show acrossallthe guests and crew.’
Heidi’s face shone with excitement as the taxi stopped outside the Hilton and bellboys descended on us from both sides. ‘There’s so much scope to play with, I’m already thinking of ideas to sketch up.’
‘Brilliant. I’ve scribbled a few down too, so let’s play around with some scenarios, then we can share with the team when we’re back.’
Twenty-one
It was the third time my alarm had gone off, meaning my snoozing window was well and truly over. I’d faceplanted into bed as soon as I’d walked into the hotel room and I really,reallydidn’t want to get up from my power nap, get changed and paste on a smile. But that was what PR was all about and these relationship-building opportunities with Brooke could make or break us. The relationship was half the battle when it came to a pitch. My phone screen was covered in messages, which I read with one eye open, and one still on snooze.
Life’s a Pitch Group Chat:
Brooke: Ronaldo’s is booked for 3 p.m.
Heidi: See you there.
Zach: Not feeling 100% so won’t make it. Enjoy.
Leo: Rest up, man, I’ll represent ?
Whatthe hell? That wasn’t any kind of get-out surely? I hadn’t felt more than eighty-five per cent for years. So now it was just us girls and Leo. I had no idea how I’d be able to handle myself in such close proximity to him in public. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed me – I’d felt it all the way down to my toes. There was no answer from Heidi’s mobile, so I dragged myself into the shower and stuck my head under the water to force myself awake. Showering on the boat was always quick and panicked, so it felt good to enjoy a full five minutes without worrying that the hot water might run out. I straightened my hair, which seemed to have grown five inches, then threw on my denim dress and corky wedges and felt like a new woman. I tried Heidi again, putting the phone on loudspeaker while I threaded through my dangly earrings, but no joy. She was probably in the bath, furious at the phone repeatedly ringing so I left her a voice note to say I’d see her at the restaurant. I was keen to get out and explore Lisbon on foot and didn’t want to hang around.
There was a hospitable warmth about the city, and the cobbles seemed to glow as I walked along the main drag towards an arch in the castle wall. Crumbly old buildings with colourful facades and beautifully decorated Juliet balconies were wedged between shops and busy aperitivo bars. Potted olive trees festooned with fairy lights decorated the street and candlelit shrines covered with rosary beads served as a reminder of the religious foundations of Portugal. The rich history of Lisbon was on proud display wherever I looked. I absorbed the cool vibe as I wandered throughthe streets, watching myself move towards the harbour as a blue dot on Google Maps. A guitarist in a voluminous shirt crooned softly over samba beats, the sun highlighting the gold brocade on his waistcoat. Al fresco diners enjoyed the afternoon sunshine with drinks and Portuguese tapas –
petiscos– and I felt a sense of contentment as a little girl wandered over with a bucket of orange roses.
‘A flower for you, pretty lady? One euro.’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Please? Only one euro,’ she insisted, picking one out for me and holding it up. ‘Your husband will pay.’
‘I don’t have a husband.’
‘Boyfriend?’
I shook my head, feeling sorry for us both. ‘No boyfriend, either.’
Her puzzled little face said it all. I was far too old not to at least have a boyfriend.
‘Hey, Kat! Wait up!’ I turned to find Leo jogging towards me. ‘Love the dress,’ he said, checking me out.
‘A rose for your rose?’ A perfect bud appeared between us as we walked – she was a resilient saleswoman; I’d give her that.
‘How much?’ Leo asked, taking it from her.
